


Hold Me Close As We Both Shake

by sockpuppeteer



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, Grinding, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Orgasm, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9308411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockpuppeteer/pseuds/sockpuppeteer
Summary: Angsty hurt/comfort tour bus fic for the bandom_meme.Frank’s jolted from his sleep when something crashes into him with a grunt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Switcheroo!

Frank’s jolted from his sleep when something crashes into him with a grunt. He has enough presence of mind to flail an arm it its direction, attempting to shove it off, but it’s large and heavy and he’s tangled in blankets and a shitty curtain that just seem to want to get in the way.

“-Th’fuck?” He grumbles, squinting in the dark, and promptly chokes on a mouthful of someone else’s hair.

“Sorry, Frankie,” Gerard moans, and Frank almost gags on the overwhelming smell of alcohol and grease and smoke and unwashed Gerard.

“Dude, you fuckin’ stink. Get off me.”

Gerard sniffs, sucks in a shaky breath, and _oh, shit._

“M’sorry,” Gerard slurs again, voice wavering noticeably this time, and moves to get up. Frank’s faster, untangling himself from the sheets and tugging on Gerard’s arm so that he ends up sprawled across Frank in the tiny bunk instead, elbow in Frank’s stomach and a knee dangerously close to Frank’s junk. “Sorry-“ he starts again, wriggling in a way Frank’s body can’t ignore, and Frank clamps one arm firmly across his back to stop him.

“Stop it.” He snaps, softening when Gerard buries his face in his neck. “Hey, it’s okay.” Frank loosens his grip, palm circling the small of Gerard’s back gently, and he shifts them until Gerard is spread more comfortably and his own balls aren’t in any immediate danger.

“M’sorry Frankie,” Gerard whines into Frank’s skin, small and broken, “Sorry, didn’t, couldn’t-“ and it’s not the intrusion he’s apologising for anymore. “I, Bert, we-“

It takes all of Frank’s self-control to keep his touch light even though his blood is starting to boil. Fuck it all, fuck it all to Hell. If Bert was there, God only knows what elaborate cocktails of liquor and pills and powders Gerard’s been mixing. It’s a wonder he found his way back to the bus, can still remember Frank’s _name_ , and Frank clutches him a little tighter, digging into the fleshy parts of Gerard’s waist as he thinks of what _could_ have happened. Gerard snuggles closer but doesn’t seem to be able to stop apologising; even in such a state he still knows how bad he’s fucked up, knows how hard they’re all trying for him and how disappointed Brian will be in the morning. Eventually Frank gives up trying to hush him under his breath and does what he does every other time Gerard won’t shut up, catching Gerard’s mouth up with his own and kissing him quiet.

Gerard isn’t exactly _quiet_ as Frank kisses him, but it’s ten times better, and it’s a hell of a lot easier to ignore Gerard’s damp cheeks and runny nose and sour breath when his hips are shifting restlessly like that, tiny little hitches like he wants friction but isn’t sure how to get it in the puny bunk. Frank wriggles and fidgets until he can work his leg between Gerard’s, and then Gerard’s dick is pressing against his thigh, hard and thick and _very_ interested. Frank’s getting there pretty fast – Gerard is always so lush and pliant when he’s wasted, all gasping breaths and clutching fingers, leaving wet, messy kisses on any patch of skin he can reach – and Gerard’s _sorry, sorry, so fuckin’ sorry, Frankie_ starts to fade into the background. Frank’s hands settle on Gerard’s hips so he can hold him steady, keep the pressure constant as they move together, a dirty bump and grind that makes Frank want to shove their pants down and get his hands around their dicks. But there’s no room, and even if there was he doesn’t think he’d be able to convince Gerard to let up for long enough. Gerard’s got his face in Frank’s neck again, must be suffocating he’s pressed in so tight, and he’s got the skin between his teeth, biting down and suckling and worrying it hard enough that Frank knows there’ll be an impressive hickey there tomorrow. Frank presses his head back into the pillows, inviting him closer, and Gerard latches onto Frank’s Adam’s apple with a groan that’s more desperation than pleasure.

Sweat is starting to bead on Frank’s overheated skin, the air in the bunk dense and cloying, and his shirt and sleep pants are sticking to him in a way he’s going to regret afterwards, but Gerard’s thrusting against him desperately and the moment his dick slips into the crease between Gerard’s thigh and groin Frank forgets all about anything else. They’re making far too much noise, but Frank’s so close he doesn’t care. He can feel his orgasm building in his stomach and releases his bruising grip on Gerard’s hip to grab him by the hair instead, yanking on it until Gerard moans and meets Frank’s mouth in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss that’s more tongue and saliva than lips.

“Frankie…” Gerard mumbles, voice catching as Frank thrusts up just right, “Frankie, Frankie, Frankie-“

“Shh,” Frank hisses against Gerard’s cheek, then, “Come on, come for me, come on, fuckin’ do it already, wanna feel it, wanna feel you, fuck, Gee, gonna fuckin’ come, oh, _oh_ fuck-“

Frank grits his teeth as he comes, swallowing down as much noise as he can, tension coiling tight in his stomach then bursting, spreading out to curl his toes and send his vision bleeding to white. He’s panting, breathless as he comes down, Gerard’s hair all over his face as he mouths up underneath Frank’s jaw. His rhythm starts to get shaky, and Frank shifts to whisper whatever he can think of, kind and gentle, filthy and obscene, in his ear. As soon as the word _mine_ falls from Frank’s lips, Gerard’s stiffening, fingers digging into Frank’s back, and he bites down hard on Frank’s neck again with a sob. Frank can feel the pulsing of Gerard’s dick through their clothes, warm and damp, and he squeezes his arms around Gerard’s shuddering body, holding him tight and close. But the shaking doesn’t stop, the gasping breaths keep coming long after Frank think’s Gerard should have relaxed against him, and when Frank noses Gerard up into a kiss and tastes salt, he realises Gerard’s full-on crying now.

“Sorry, sorry, Frank, Frankie, m’so sorry, fuck, such a fuckin’ screw up-“

It’s pretty gross, sweat and come making Frank itch all over, and he didn’t even want to think about what else was all over Gerard’s face besides the tears, but he kisses him anyway, brushing the hair out of Gerard’s face and winding his fingers through it to tilt Gerard’s head for a better angle. Frank kisses him and kisses him and kisses him until Gerard stops talking and starts kissing back, letting Frank coax his tongue out of his mouth. He still won’t shut up, making tiny, broken sounds against Frank’s lips, but eventually, when the air starts cooling around them, when Frank’s mouth is sore and overused, he’s calmed enough that Frank can let him up.

“Frankie-“ Gerard starts, staring down at him with wide, sad eyes, and Frank kisses him again before he gets any further, just a tiny peck, innocent in the face of everything else.

“Shh,” he hushes again, smiling this time and pushing his nose up against Gerard’s in an Eskimo kiss. “It’s okay, Gerard, I promise it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Gerard mutters, closing his eyes again and shaking his head, “It’s not, it’s not, I’m not, I can’t-“

Frank uses his grip on Gerard’s head to kiss him again, swallowing down his panic, then rests their foreheads together. “Open your eyes.”

Gerard keeps shaking his head, but Frank is persistent, tugging gently on Gerard’s hair when he keeps refusing.

“Open your eyes.”

Eventually Gerard does, all red-rimmed and bloodshot, and Frank’s stomach kicks. He looks so vulnerable, so lost and broken, and Frank just wants to wrap Gerard up in his arms and keep him safe and protected from the rest of the world. He doesn’t though, just curls both hands around Gerard’s cheeks and brushes his thumbs across them, wiping away already dried tears. The longer he stays silent, just holding Gerard’s gaze, the more Gerard seems to calm, his eyes losing some of their panicked edge like he’s afraid Frank is going to shove him out into the cold the moment he realises what a mess he’s in bed with.

“Everyone makes mistakes, Gee.” Frank says, keeping it light. When he’s sure Gerard isn’t going to start freaking out again, he eases Gerard’s head down and wriggles around until they’re both curled up tightly in the bunk, legs tangled, Gerard mostly sprawled across Frank’s body with his head stuffed underneath Frank’s jaw. He cards a hand back through Gerard’s hair, ignoring the grease on his fingers, and presses a kiss there, burying his nose in it and inhaling the smell of _Gerard_. “It happens. It’s no big deal.”

Frank feels Gerard tense up, like he’s preparing to open his mouth and argue, and he brings his other hand up, thumb resting on Gerard’s bottom lip.

“It _happens_.” he presses, sliding his hand around to cup Gerard’s neck, shoulder, then down around his waist, sliding up underneath his shirt to hold him tighter. “Get some sleep, okay?”

Gerard doesn’t say anything, and Frank cranes his neck to press a kiss to Gerard’s forehead, lingering despite the ache of the angle. “I’ll still be here when you wake up. I promise.”

Finally, fucking _finally_ , Gerard nods against him, and Frank settles back against the pillows, arms wrapped around Gerard to keep him close. It feels like it takes forever, Frank’s hands moving over Gerard’s skin in small, soothing circles, but he can feel it when Gerard’s breath evens out, the way he slumps a little more in his sleep, his body gaining a deadweight that wasn’t there before. The rest of the bus is still silent, but Frank’s not naïve enough to think that’s because nobody heard the commotion. There’s going to be hell to pay when they finally surface, but that’s Future-Frank’s problem, and Present-Frank is only bothered about Gerard getting enough sleep to be able to face the next day, the next town, the next show.

When he’s sure Gerard’s out for the count, Frank closes his eyes and listens to Gerard’s steady breathing, in-out, in-out, over and over again, lets his own start to match up with it. He presses his face into Gerard’s hair again, slowing the motions of his hands until he’s just holding him, not too tight, but firm enough that Gerard will be able to feel it even in his sleep.

“I love you,” he sighs, the words getting lost against Gerard’s scalp, and with the edges of dawn are peeking around the curtain, Frank lets himself drift off to sleep.


End file.
